


How You See Me

by SnowyCrocus



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Dreams and Nightmares, Friendship, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyCrocus/pseuds/SnowyCrocus
Summary: Friendship and, most of all, trust, takes times to develop. Especially when your dangerous ice powers nearly killed the Princess. Origins of Ice Bros (Elsa x Kristoff friendship).





	1. Chapter 1

As children, monsters under the bed or in the closet seem scary because you can't see them; you don't know if they're actually there. But as an adult, sometimes you're not sure whether you should be afraid of what's right in front of you. As an adult, monsters aren't always as they may seem.

Sometimes, what's scariest in life isn't that which threatens _you,_ but that which threatens what you care about most.

As an ice harvester, Kristoff learned the number one rule early on of being out on the ice, where frostbite could set in like a deadly disease or the ice could splinter and shatter below you and send you plummeting to an early death: if something seems dangerous, don't risk it; don't go near it. Just stay away.

That first night after the coronation and The Thaw, Kristoff dreamed of glimmering walls of ice. He dreamed of feeling an unnatural chill in his bones and hearing Anna's grunt of pain as ice pierced her heart. He watched her stumble and fall to her knees as her hair turned white, and he saw the veins of ice slowly freezing underneath her skin. And finally, he saw the image of ice-blue eyes meeting his in a piercing stare, the hands that dealt the would-be fatal blow clenched and trembling. He woke with a start, drenched in sweat yet a cold, chilling grip around his heart. _Anna's sister._

And he thought maybe he should stay away from that, too.

* * *

Nearly two weeks after The Thaw, Kristoff has seen Elsa a handful of times. Never more than a few minutes, typically- a quick glance here and there in the hallways of the castle, upon picking Anna up from the Queen's office to go for a picnic, and even once when she came to retrieve Olaf from a playdate with Sven.

Yet Kristoff finds that he is still waiting.

He is waiting for Elsa to mention the events of her coronation day and what she put them through.

He is waiting for an explanation. For the snow monster, for throwing them off a cliff, for striking Anna and for _killing_ her sister.

He is waiting for an apology. And he realizes after too much silence that he is probably never going to get one.

* * *

Elsa hates this, the not knowing.

All her life she has been trained to _know_ things.

She knows how to dip into the perfect curtsy and knows exactly what level of respect each degree of a bow bestows upon the recipient. She knows the proper greetings and lines of expected conversation when speaking to a diplomat, general, or fellow royal like herself.

She knows the name and lineage of every ruler on the same continent and their families going back three generations, at the minimum. She knows the wars they've waged and their outcomes, their top exports and imports and the going rates for all of them.

She knows the laws of her land better than she knows her own birthday.

But she hates herself for not knowing how to address the rather large elephant in the room.

What she did- to Anna, to Kristoff, to her _kingdom_ – it is inexcusable. She can't fathom how she's still been permitted to keep her title, to walk around freely, to be _alive_. But she is, and while she can write letters to the neighboring countries in apology for their experience during her coronation, and while she can send funds to the people of her nation to help bear the brunt of the damage her unnatural winter caused, she _cannot_ figure out how to bring up what happened in conversation and apologize for it. Because an apology will never suffice - it will never be enough for what she did.

She's _tried_ to bring it up. Countless times, the words right on the tip of her tongue when she sees Kristoff. But then her hands start to shake, her heart begins to pound in her chest all the way up to her ears and her tongue gets stuck in her throat and by the time she recovers it's too late to say anything at all.

* * *

On the first day after The Thaw, Kristoff meets Anna just off of the docks overlooking the water of the fjord- he doesn't feel ready to enter the castle just yet, despite her invitation. He can't quite put his finger on what's holding him back- is it uncertainty, discomfort, fear? Or mistrust?

He can't believe he's sitting here, with her next to him. He was afraid it was all a dream this morning when he woke up. So much had happened- how could it have been just hours ago? It felt like it had been a whole lifetime. And yet, the look of her, the smell of her- it was all the same. He still felt the same way about her - stronger, even, upon reflection upon all that they had been through and accomplished the previous day.

Somehow, love actually did conquer all- for all of them.

"So, how was last night with your sister? After…" - he trailed off, unsure of what to call yesterday.

She met his gaze with brave eyes that were still conflicted and hurting, and pulled an imaginary piece of hair back behind her ear.

"Weird - it was weird,"she said. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it was wonderful! Really – I never thought we'd be here - hugging, talking, like we did. She's my sister, and we grew up right down the hall from each other. But we haven't spoken - I mean, haven't _really_ spoken in years - and I think" - she bit her lip, eyes turning downcast – "I don't think we know _how_ to, anymore."

Kristoff can read between the lines and assume that Anna spoke plenty last night. But he understands that she feels like she was just filling the silent void between the two women, uncomfortable with the awkwardness that had grown as they themselves had.

They had both cried- a lot, and they had both apologized over and over again. And Elsa never took her eyes off of her, Anna had noticed. But it was as if Elsa had so much to say that she didn't know _what_ to say or _how_ to say it.

_How do you not know what to say to your sister after everything you did?_ Kristoff wants to ask the elder. He does not understand. He does not know, _cannot_ know, how after years and years the unspoken words pile up - mountains of them that clog the throat, sit on the tongue, fill the mouth, run between the ears and swarm in the mind find themselves unable to be released and spoken, almost as if they were never even there to begin with.

* * *

A few days later, Anna plans a dinner so that Elsa and Kristoff can finally meet under more… _normal_ , non-deadly circumstances.

It will take place in the formal dining room, in honor of the momentous occasion of the two most important people in Anna's life meeting "for real this time," as she calls it. She's requested that the cooks make both Kristoff's and Elsa's favorite foods (clashing though the meal may be), and that all the candles on the marvelous chandelier above are lit so that the room and its decorations practically shimmer in the light.

Kristoff is secretly relieved that he and Anna arrive before Elsa so that he can ask her what all the utensils are for and _how_ many drinks will be served in all these glasses? It all seems ridiculous, really.

He's surprised when the queen enters, looking just as uncomfortable as he feels, though he can tell that she's trying not to show it. She has a mild smile plastered on her face as she quietly steps in, though he sees how her eyes dart around like she's expecting an attack and her fingers are twisting together incessantly.

Sitting down placidly in her seat at the head of the table, Elsa tries to take subtle deep breaths to quiet the screeching screams of alarm in her ears. Kristoff is not a diplomat or council member- she would know what to say and do, if he were. That's the beauty of convention and diplomacy - there's a script she can follow for that. But this- she realizes with a start, trying to not let the shock show on her face- this is the first person she is meeting, perhaps the first person she is meeting _ever_ , to get to know on a personal level, rather than a professional one.

And she has no idea how to do it.

Thankfully Anna begins the introductions and leads the conversation, steering the conversation towards mild, pleasant things and earning light laughter from both of them at times.

Elsa doesn't even notice that Kristoff uses the wrong utensils or picks up his bowl of soup at one point to drink. She has too much on her mind already trying to figure out what to say next and keeping the temperature at a tolerable level.

Kristoff, on the other hand, is trying to absorb everything. How the women eat, where they place their napkins, the layout of the room. Everything is overwhelmingly foreign. What he does notice, however, is that when Elsa tries to ask an attendant for a new napkin, as Anna's has fallen to the floor, she turns every which way before finding the serving boy. Almost as if… _she hasn't eaten in here for years,_ Kristoff realizes. And Anna's words from yesterday come back to him, then:

" _I never knew. She barely ever came out of her room and I had no idea why."_

* * *

"So what are you going to do while I'm gone?" Kristoff asks. Anna is sitting on his lap, her head resting on his neck so that he can smell the soap in her hair and see the freckles scattered across her forehead.

They're in a clearing not too far from the castle, with a little brook babbling over stones nearby. The sun has set and stars are beginning to become visible, the sounds of the night starting to filter in around them. Kristoff doesn't want to leave to go ice harvesting tomorrow. He knows he has to – he took too long of a break from his work, what with the coronation "events" and wanting to spend time with Anna – but he doesn't feel ready to leave her just yet, even though he knows that he'll be back in just one week.

"Well," Anna starts, keeping her head craned back on Kristoff, "Elsa asked if I would head a committee focused on finding ways to improve the lives of the children in Arendelle- you know, their schools and education, the orphanages, things like that. So I'll get started on that this week." Kristoff nodded, realizing that the stars dotting the night sky above were just as numerous and beautiful as Anna's many freckles.

"Besides that, though, Elsa and I planned a whole day together- just the two of us!" Anna's hands grip Kristoff's knees in excitement. "I can't wait! And, of course I'm going to try to drag her out of those boring old meetings a bit more other days so we can have more time together, too."

"Wait, what?" Kristoff straightened his back, requiring Anna to sit up too and she turned to face him, confused.

"Anna, your sister's been really busy and stressed lately…maybe you should just give her some space 'til things calm down." Kristoff reflects on the past few days when he spotted Elsa walking briskly with councilors through the hallways, piles of books and scrolls in her hands , a frown on her face and worry in her eyes. The three of them had also twice planned to meet for dinner, but both times the queen had had to cancel and instead take her meal to her room to work on reparations late into the night.

"What are you talking about? That's exactly _why_ it's important that we spend time together." Anna's eyes narrowed. "You…you don't want me spending time with her, do you?" She realized.

"No!" Kristoff backpedaled as Anna stood up from his lap and stood now towering over him. He rose to meet her. "It's not that, I just…I think she needs some space right now, with everything going on. Why don't you wait 'til I'm back, and we can do something together, the three of us?"

"What is your problem?" Anna's face reddens, camouflaging her freckles as her arms cross tightly in front of her. "You think you need to be there with us? To what, _protect_ me?" Her mouth settles into a hard line as she shakes her head sadly. "You think I need protection from Elsa."

Kristoff sighs – he might as well just tell the truth at this point. "Anna, I know you don't want to think about it, but your sister _is_ dangerous. I just don't want you getting hurt again. You _need_ to be more careful around her."

Anna's eyes darken. "I can't believe you. After all we've been through, Elsa and I. You know that she figured out the secret to controlling her powers, but you still think she's dangerous. Everyone keeps telling me that, even _Elsa,_ but I didn't think I'd hear it from _you._ "

_Even Elsa?_ Elsa _is telling her she should be careful?_ Kristoff doesn't know if that makes him feel better- that Elsa knows she's dangerous and therefore will be more cautious – or worse.

"I guess you don't know me well enough yet," Anna starts.

_She's my sister. She would_ never _hurt me._ Anna's voice rings in his ears, her words spoken only days ago but it felt like it had been a lifetime. Kristoff sees the snow-white strands of Anna's braids in his mind's eye, feels the stiffness of the ice under her skin, spreading.

"And you certainly don't know Elsa," Anna finished.

Kristoff lowers his head, yielding to Anna's choice. _But do_ you?

* * *

The night that Kristoff returns from his ice harvesting trip, Anna plans for a family dinner – all three of them this time, and no excuses. "I'm talking to _you,_ Elsa," she exclaims, winking at her sister, who can't seem to decide whether that's a joke or a threat.

The meal goes well – Anna is nearly shaking with excitement at Kristoff's return and even Elsa seems enthralled by his stories of adventuring in the wilderness, asking for details, eyes wide and round at his tales like a young child.

"How _is_ it that you always seem to have wolves coming after you at night?" Elsa asks, intrigued. _And a bit worried for the future safety of her sister._

"It's not my fault, I swear!" Kristoff exclaims. "Well, not usually. This time it might've been – we accidentally stumbled into a den. But you should've seen it!" He begins to describe the action scene that took place- wolves surrounding him and Sven on all sides, he brandishing a torch and knife while Sven prepared himself for a fight.

"It came at me and I _swiped_ like this-" he brandished his butter knife in the air, causing Anna to burst into giggles while Elsa's eyes widened and she covered her mouth to hide her growing amusement at Kristoff's show. "And Sven kicked them as they came after him, one after the other, like BAM!" Kristoff thrust out his arm in recollection of Sven's swift kick-

Right into his water glass. _CRACK!_

Glass splintered from the impact, scattering across the tablecloth. But there was more crackling as Elsa, startled from the noise, jumped and unwittingly released the dam that held her magic.

The entire tabletop became a thin sheet of ice, encroaching upon their salad plates. The wine and water glasses froze, as did their contents- including the water that had been spilled across the table…and Kristoff's hand that had been dripping on impact, caught frozen in his demonstration of Sven's kick.

Time itself seemed to freeze. Kristoff's eyes grew round as saucers and his breath caught as he struggled to pull his hand out of the block of ice, but his efforts were fruitless.

Elsa took longer to recover, still stunned by her actions. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath in and held it, then flicked her fingers and dispelled the ice, though it receded slowly. Kristoff shook out his hand once freed and rubbed his palms together to gain warmth and feeling back.

"K-Kristoff," Elsa stuttered. "I'm- I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-" She was cut off as Anna reached over and held her trembling hands.

"It's alright Elsa – hey!" Anna clasped her fingers tightly around Elsa's as she tried to pull away, her gaze in her lap. "Stop it, don't worry, you unfroze it!"

"But it shouldn't have happened _at all_ " Elsa moaned softly, despair leaking out of her throat. Tears brim in her eyes at what she's done _again._ "I'm sorry," she whispers to Kristoff, before excusing herself from the table. Anna leaps up and tries to pull her back but Elsa wrenches her arm out of her sister's grasp. "I'll see you later tonight, okay?

Kristoff feels distraught over Elsa's actions. He doesn't want her to be so upset; it's obvious that it was an accident, an accident that was _his own fault,_ anyway, and he knows she didn't mean to freeze his arm. He wants to tell her that, at first – that she shouldn't apologize, that _he's_ sorry for breaking such nice, _expensive_ royal glasses and all.

But as the queen steps through the doors to leave, Kristoff realizes his arm is still tingling and his fingertips are still blue, and he remembers how he felt when Anna collapsed in his arms, trembling from the aftershock of the ice spreading through her heart.

He remembers how her eyes grew more heavy-lidded as the cold began to spread through her body and made her legs shaky and weak, and the desperation he felt when he heard her voice through the howling winter winds and knew he wouldn't make it to her in time.

And suddenly Kristoff isn't sure if he feels like apologizing to Elsa anymore.

* * *

She's gotten so much better, Elsa thinks, at controlling her magic. She has fewer accidents now, and even when one does occur, she can dissipate the snow or ice that much more quickly. She's proud of herself, of how far she has come. But that sentiment only makes her occasional failures that much harder to bear.

Her old insecurities return with a vengeance, screaming in her head. _You're a failure, you could never control yourself and you never will. You're a danger. A_ monster.

Trying to ignore those voices is difficult enough. But it's near impossible when she sees the look on Kristoff's face during another incident.

The three of them were sitting in Elsa's office, Kristoff and Anna waiting on the queen to finish up before they could take their planned walk together. Reaching for the very last letter in the once sky-high stack, Elsa breathes a sigh of relief as she opens the envelope. _Almost done._

But then she reads its contents- yet _another_ kingdom choosing to end their ice trade with Arendelle, as they don't want to be receiving any _magical_ ice (even though whatever ice Arendelle ships to other kingdoms is _normal_ ice, never magical), and her heart drops while her anger flares and she groans in exasperation.

She _hates_ this – that others assume her magic is _tainting_ her kingdom's hard-earned goods. She hates that her notoriety is destroying the livelihoods of others; those that work hard to earn their pay. Her temper flares as her entire desk ices over suddenly, the letter in hand included.

That minor slip-up would be bad enough, but it's made worse when Elsa catches movement out of the corner of her eye – Anna, who was sitting closest to Elsa's desk, has been pulled away from the icy accident by Kristoff, his hands gripping her shoulders hard as he pulls her out of "harm's way."

The ice harvester's face, however, is what is the most painful to see. Eyes wide and fearful, his shocked and anxious expression eats away at what is left of Elsa's frayed nerves.

It's hard to face someone's expression when they look at you that way. It's even harder to look at that person's face and see your late parents looking back at you – despairing, scared, and as if they've lost all hope.

She can't unfreeze the desk now, not with mama and papa's faces reflected in Kristoff's.

His arms around Anna – she sees her sister cradled motionless in her mother's arms. She sees Kristoff's expression and hears _"Elsa, what you have done?"_ The apprehension in his eyes is the same as her father's – confusion over what his daughter can do and fear over what she is destined to become. She sees the despair in her mother's face over a daughter she can no longer hold; a distant reminder of what she could have had, had she been _normal._

Her response to the letter will have to wait until tomorrow.

* * *

That same night, with Kristoff's horrified expression still branded in her mind's eye as she rests her head on her pillows, Elsa dreams.

She's back in her personal dungeon cell- the one designed especially for her. She's backed up against the wall, her feet scrambling on the freezing, rough stones of the floor. She feels her heart racing faster than it ever has before, her panic mounting so quickly and intensely she feels as though she's about to burst.

Her magic, similarly, is raging within her like a storm about to let loose, but it can't. It is contained by handcuffs which envelop each hand entirely, up to her wrists. She can feel her powers bounding underneath her skin, pushing, _pushing_ so hard to be released.

Despite her kicking and struggling, incredibly strong hands push her back down onto the cold, hard floor; shove her back into the stone wall so hard that her head snaps back and collides with the wall.

Her head spinning and eyes now unfocused from the impact, Elsa just barely manages to make out the figure of Kristoff as he turns the key in her handcuffs and slams the iron gate to her cell, his hazel eyes locked on hers with an expression of hate so fierce it burns.

* * *

Kristoff stirs in the middle of the night, or quite possibly the very early morning. At first he doesn't know what woke him; he usually wakes at the crack of dawn once the slightest bit of light appears on the horizon.

But then he hears Anna moaning next to him and feels her twitching limbs against his side and he rolls his eyes while biting back a laugh.

"Anna," he whispers, "shhhh. Stop that."

Anna doesn't respond, and she doesn't seem to have heard the man next to her trying to sleep. Instead, her muscles shudder, her limbs drawing inward to wrap around herself as her trembling only worsens.

"No – please! Please," she mutters, groaning. "Why did you-"

Her shivering intensifies suddenly, her body rigid and tight as her teeth begin chattering.

Kristoff startles at the change. He whips the blanket from around his frame and is quick to wrap it around the redhead, tucking it in around her sides, but it doesn't seem to help. Anna continues to shake and moan.

"Anna! Wake up!" Kristoff tries shaking her awake but her body is tight and cold. He keeps trying, even going so far as to pry her eyelids open to gain a response.

This seems to rouse her, and slowly, _slowly_ , her extremities ease their quaking and her body goes soft. Tears rest in the corners of her eyes and drip down her face.

Kristoff gathers her lightly trembling form in his arms. "Shhhh, shhhh. It's okay. I've got you." He strokes her hair with one hand while the other thumbs tears off of her cheeks.

"I th-thought I was freezing again," Anna begins to explain. "The ice…I felt it again…"

"I know," Kristoff says, holding her tight despite her shaking and continuing to wipe off her tears. "I know."

* * *

Just because she's quiet doesn't mean she is blind.

Elsa notices, as the days go by, the attention that Kristoff pays Anna's interactions with her sister. Their _physical_ interactions, specifically.

She catches a few winces from Kristoff when Anna grabs her hands or clasps her shoulders. _Funny how they both do that._

A couple times when Elsa joined the pair after a stressful day with her council or holed up in her office, she sees how Kristoff keeps his large hands around Anna's waist, seemingly preventing her from moving forward towards her sister.

And once, even, Elsa overheard a conversation between the couple, just about to enter Anna's room when she heard voices inside.

" _She's not going to hurt me again! We've been over this Kristoff. Stop trying to protect me from something I don't need your protection from."_

Elsa knows what, or rather _who_ it is that Anna and Kristoff are discussing. There is no doubting Kristoff's feelings about her now.

Everyone treats her like she's a ticking time bomb, about to explode at the slightest provocation.

She should be upset with Kristoff. Hurt.

But she is glad.

* * *

The Queen may usually walk silently throughout the halls of the castle, but Kristoff hears her coming from a mile away while mucking out Sven's stall in the stables, her heels crunching in the straw.

She's hiked up her voluminous skirts and is so focused on not trodding on any horse manure that she doesn't realize she's found who she's searching for until Kristoff clears his throat.

"Oh! Kristoff!" She rights the drop in temperature caused by her surprise, her eyes nervously taking in her surroundings and looking everywhere but at Kristoff.

"Your majesty." Kristoff bows awkwardly, his heart pounding in his chest as his mind races to recall why _on earth_ would the queen be coming to visit him in the stables of all places?

Having to remind Kristoff to call her by her real name when in private seems to bring Elsa back to the present. Twisting her fingers together painfully, she looks to be on the verge of saying something but is unable to spit it out.

"Can I help you with something?" Kristoff asks. "If you're looking for carrots, I'm afraid Sven already ate them all."

Sven harrumphs in agreement, trying to nudge Elsa as she retreats a few steps back cautiously, eying his fur.

"No, it's not that," she giggles behind her hand. "I just…I wanted to talk to you briefly about something, if you have a minute?"

Even if he didn't have a single second to spare, Kristoff didn't think he could tell the Queen of Arendelle she had to come back some other time.

"Sure, now's fine. What did you want to talk about?" He can feel his pulse quicken in suspense. _Please don't tell me I have to stay away from Anna. I know I'm not good enough for her, but…please._ Anything _but that._

The queen closes her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose that raises her shoulders nearly to her ears. When she's done, she seems much looser, more relaxed. Only her eyes betray the solemnity of her intention.

"I know you don't trust me," she begins, slowly, as Kristoff forms words of denial on the tip of his tongue. "Don't deny it- not after what I did, to you and to Anna." Her lips are turned down in a frown as she reflects on her past actions. "I know how you see me- because the person you're seeing now is how I saw myself…before."

Kristoff doesn't know how to respond to that. He remains kneeling in the straw, grasping for something to say. Still mute, he settles on a nod, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

"You can't see past what I did to see the person beneath. And I wanted you to know that I understand. And I'm glad that you feel that way, for Anna's sake. Because while I now _know_ how to control my powers, it doesn't mean that I always _can_."

She takes another deep breath, her eyes locked within his. "I know you don't trust me. And that's okay. Because I don't trust myself yet, either."

She finishes with her breath hitching and her voice catching in her throat. "Protect her. Please. From everything- _including me_."

Afraid to face Kristoff's reaction to her words, she turns and retreats, stepping carefully through the mess of the stable.

Kristoff would call after her to stop, but he doesn't know what he would even say if she came back. He can't believe what just happened. Did the queen herself really just come to find him in the stables and pour her heart out to him? After all her silence, not only did she admit to what she did, she asked that he defend her sister _from herself._

He can't believe it. The queen has just asked him to be Anna's protector. In more ways than one.

The queen's words ring in his ears. _I don't trust myself yet. Protect her- from_ me.

_To be afraid of yourself, to not trust yourself…_

Kristoff knows he weighs more than double Anna's weight. He knows he can wield a heavy ice pickaxe like it's a sack of feathers. He knows he can crush a rock with his bare hands. If he wanted to, he could kill Anna in a heartbeat (heaven forbid). He knows, of course, that he would never so much as lay a finger on her with the intent to harm. He would _never._

But what if he couldn't control himself? What if, by their own accord, his arms reached out, his meaty palms on either side of Anna's neck, and his fingers _squeezed_ until her eyes bulged, her face going so red her freckles were no longer visible? Forced to _watch_ himself commit this unspeakable act, as he murdered the one he so loved?

Kristoff thinks he may get it now. He gets Elsa now.


	2. Chapter 2

The queen proclaims Kristoff to be the kingdom's Official Ice Master and Deliverer.

She holds an official ceremony and everything, pulling out all the stops. Kristoff should be proud, but he's not quite sure he deserves it. He just happened to be at the right place in the mountains at the right time, just happened to find Anna in a shop and she just happened to chase after him and make her crazy demands.

He also just happened to face death multiple times by the hand of the queen, he supposes. So maybe the title is deserved somewhat, after all.

Elsa pins a medal to his brand-new uniform, the epaulets heavy on his shoulders, the fabric stiff and constraining on his muscular frame. "In gratitude for your service to the people of the kingdom, the land of Arendelle, and to the crown," she announces grandly. "And most of all, for protecting Princess Anna from harm and bringing her back to safety, permitting her to ultimately save the kingdom and the lives of us all."

The crowd cheers, surprisingly - Kristoff wasn't sure how the mix of nobles and commoners alike would respond to a lowly itinerant ice-harvester receiving such a position from the crown – but despite the glee and the celebration, Kristoff hears the unspoken words of the queen as she steps back and presents him to the people.

 _And for protecting Anna from_ me _, the_ true _monster,_ is what she doesn't say but is thinking.

* * *

Forever wary of the queen's hands, Kristoff notices that she rarely wears gloves anymore. Her hands may often be concealed in the folds of her skirts, or wrapped inside her linen napkin at dinner, or even hidden behind her back or under her armpits with crossed arms, but he sees that the gloves are conspicuously absent.

At first, Kristoff is surprised that Elsa already feels so confident as to forgo her gloves each and every day without a concern that she will need them. After so many years, as Anna had told him, wearing them must be a hard habit to break.

So it is with barely-concealed surprise but also _not_ -surprise when leaving a council meeting together (Kristoff must attend one meeting quarterly in his new position) that Kristoff watches as a wad of fabric falls seemingly out of nowhere from Elsa's dress.

Bending down to pick up the object, Kristoff sees that he is holding a pair of gloves. Cream-colored, with a delicate gold border at the wrist and detailed embroidery across the top – matching perfectly with the queen's cream and gold dress.

Elsa inhales sharply through her nose when she notices what Kristoff is holding, and nearly lunges to grab them out of his hands before she realizes that besides being unseemly and rude, it is far too late for that.

"Thank you," she instead chooses to say, lightly plucking the gloves from his grasp. She tucks them primly into what must be pockets – pockets hidden within the folds of her dress, artfully concealed by swaths of fabric from a dressmaker who has hidden pockets for gloves in the queen's dresses countless times before.

* * *

The three of them are sitting in Elsa's office once more. Elsa is working on the countless items that require her attention, flipping pages and dunking her pen in ink seemingly as often as one takes a breath. Kristoff has work to complete as well- his new position comes not only with a higher salary but also with more responsibility and bookkeeping in return.

Anna, bored, grabs an envelope off the top of one of the many piles on her sister's desk. "Woah, this is fancy!" She exclaims. The words "Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle" are decorated so elaborately that even the embellishments have embellishments.

Seeing her sister still otherwise occupied, Anna opens the envelope, finding that it had already been opened and the letter placed back inside. Her eyes scanning the letter, she lets out a gasp. "Wow, Elsa, the prince of -"

Elsa glances up. Seeing the object of Anna's attention, her eyes widen as the temperature plummets. She _lunges_ out of her seat, snatching the paper from Anna's hands. "Do _not_ open and read my personal mail," she nearly growls.

"It was already open," Anna retorts. "But Elsa, the prince of – well, I didn't see of where. But he wants to marry you!"

Anna's statement remains unacknowledged as Elsa stuffs the letter back inside the envelope and goes back to her work. "But Elsa- what do you think? Are you going to-"

" _Enough,"_ Elsa interrupts, keeping her eyes on her desk. Kristoff holds back a shiver and sees a few snowflakes wink into existence.

"But-" Anna is too excited over what she saw in the letter to notice the change in climate. "But don't you want to meet him?"

" _No_ ," Elsa responds too quickly. "No, I don't." She places her pen down as her hands begin trembling too much to hold it steady. A light gust of wind filters through the room and the snow begins to fall at a light but steadier rate.

After Elsa's eye-opening confession and request in the stables just a few weeks ago, Kristoff can see the change in the indoor climate as a sign of Elsa's insecurities rather than a threat. If she can't even trust herself yet, how could she open up her heart to someone else?

Kristoff knows he is very lucky- he has had the fortune in life to find the woman that he loves; that he wants to spend the rest of his life with. And if he isn't turned into an ice sculpture first, it seems that the queen will permit him to marry her sister. She hasn't done anything to suggest she wants to stop their relationship, at least.

But Elsa… Kristoff doesn't know much about royalty but one thing he _does_ know is that they often don't have the freedom to choose a partner for love; only for duty. Kristoff knows that the only reason Anna is still with him and not the prince of god-knows-where is that her sister loves her too much – _needs_ her too much - to send her away, even for the good of the kingdom. Kristoff knows that Elsa is aware of what her own fate must be when it comes to marriage– she has the duty part of her job down pretty good.

He wonders if the queen has resigned herself yet to her future of being with a man. A man who will likely try to take her responsibilities from her, reducing her to nothing more than a figurehead. Worse yet, a man who will require an heir, and all that that entails.

For Elsa, who still _flinches_ at the touch of her sister's hand on her shoulder or wrapped around herself in a hug…well, no wonder the rug is now covered deep in a layer of snow.

Kristoff startles when he realizes that he's been deep in his own thoughts on the matter and has missed some heated conversation between the two sisters. Elsa has risen from her chair to meet her sister, but is turned away as she clasps her arms around herself tight. Anna is red in the face and her eyebrows are drawn together in frustration but also confusion.

The snow continues to fall steadily and a scrim of ice has formed at Elsa's feet. Kristoff steps between her and Anna.

This close up, he can hear Elsa's ragged breathing; see her chest heaving as she tries so very hard to control her breaths and her magic. He sees that she is struggling, and he reflects on the letter that started this whole affair.

He tries to imagine Elsa with someone – a special someone. Supporting them, providing them with love and physical affection. He can't see it, can't picture it – not yet. One day it may be possible, he thinks. But today is not that day.

"Elsa?" He asks, remembering at the last second to call her by her first name. "Do- do you want us to go? Should we give you some space?" He doesn't think she hears him at first, occupied as she is in containing her unruly magic. Her arms clench around herself tighter, her eyebrows knit and teeth grit in concentration.

But she must hear him, because her eyes suddenly open and widen in surprise and almost _relief._

 _Yes_ , she nods, and Kristoff ushers Anna out of the room with a promise to return to her sister soon after she's had some time to settle herself back down.

Back in her office, Elsa realizes that this time Kristoff trusted her enough to make the call on whether or not she was safe to be around. She was given the _choice_ to decide if she was safe – no one else determined that for her. Kristoff didn't make a face at her or her magic. He didn't pull Anna away. He let her decide. He gave her _freedom_ to decide for herself.

She wasn't ready to face that letter yet. But if Kristoff could bestow that kind of trust in her, then maybe another person could. _Someday._

* * *

Kristoff _knew_ he shouldn't have stepped there. But hindsight's 20/20.

The weather had been iffy lately and Kristoff had had to wait out a small storm before leaving on an ice harvesting trip, leaving him a couple days late into his next delivery date and scrambling to make up for lost time.

In an effort to hasten things along, he had gone a different way in what he had hoped was a shortcut to where he would go to cut ice. And it could've been a shortcut, if he had just been more careful with his footing and not stepped into a snow-covered pit.

So now here he was, lying on a cot in the castle's infirmary with his leg immobilized in traction for a broken leg while sweating like a pig.

Unable to walk properly, it had taken two days to get back home to some medical care. Exposed to the elements as he was unable to care for himself as he normally would, he had also developed some sort of respiratory infection and was fighting off a fever.

Anna had been extremely distressed to see Kristoff's condition when he returned home. She was the one who had insisted he stay at the castle infirmary. Every day she visited; bringing snacks, games and reading material for Kristoff to keep himself occupied outside of her visits.

She and the medical staff had been taking great care of him. But surprisingly, the best care had come from none other than the Queen of Arendelle herself.

Once she had heard from Anna that Kristoff was being treated for his injuries and illness, Elsa had come as soon as she could to assess the situation for herself. Seeing Kristoff's leg- the skin red and purple and so swollen it looked ready to burst - she had immediately summoned packs of ice to reduce the inflammation. She could feel the heat radiating off him, too, and cooled the air, adding more ice around his neck and forehead for his fevers.

Despite all the responsibilities Kristoff knew Elsa had, she was there consistently throughout the day – almost as much as Anna- to produce fresh ice for his wounds and to check on his temperature.

Kristoff found that he looked forward to Elsa's visits- anticipating the relief from the swelling and heat, yes – but also her quiet yet perceptive companionship.

"You're protecting my heart by taking care of Anna," Elsa told him one night, yawning and ready for bed. "So I'm going to protect hers by taking care of you."

* * *

On the 4th anniversary of the deaths of the late king and queen, the day dawned grey and drizzling, apt for the occasion.

Kristoff knew the day was coming – Anna had warned him days ago of the approaching date and told him to not take it personally if she were in a bad mood leading up to the anniversary.

They had agreed to meet for breakfast, yet Anna mostly pushed the food around her plate, her head resting on her fist as she tried to hold the tears back in her eyes.

Kristoff found he couldn't find it in himself to eat much, either – the castle was suffused with a persistent chill that even cooled the hot foods immediately as they were placed upon the table. He never liked cold eggs, and he had a feeling that the temperature inside wasn't just a result of the dreary rain outside the castle walls. He had a feeling that the queen wasn't partaking in breakfast this morning.

"Will you come back to visit tonight?" Anna suddenly asked.

"Oh – of course," Kristoff replied. "If you'd like me to. But aren't you and Elsa going to want some time alone together?"

Anna made a face that Kristoff couldn't quite interpret, shrugging her shoulders. "You're right about the 'alone' part," Anna said. "I don't think Elsa's going to want company after we visit the gravesite." She sighed. "And I really don't think I can stand being alone on this day any longer."

"She said she never even hugged them before they left," Anna added, the "she" and "them" she was referring to obvious. Her face fell. "But she _still_ wouldn't even let me hug her today of all days."

Kristoff felt his heart drop at her words, but was interrupted from responding when he heard a light click-clack of heels entering the dining room.

" _Anna…_ " Elsa's voice strained with emotion after hearing her sister's confession. "I'm sorry. I just…" she shook her head, deciding to drop the topic. "As for later - I don't know that yet. Can we see how things go, first?"

"You weren't supposed to hear that." Anna blushed. "But yeah, we'll see how you're feeling I guess."

She turned to Kristoff. "I'll let you know about tonight." They kissed goodbye and he squeezed her hand to lend some support.

As the sisters turned and headed towards the hill upon which their parents' headstones rested, Kristoff noted that they were both wearing the same attire- black dresses, boots, and capes with hoods against the rain outside. His gaze focusing beyond the girls, he started. The rain had turned to snow.

As he glanced back to the retreating forms, he noted that the only difference in their clothing was that the elder wore black gloves as well.

Something Anna had muttered at breakfast came back to him, then:

 _She said she never even hugged them before they left. But she_ still _wouldn't even let me hug her today of all days._

Kristoff wondered what it had been like inside the castle when Elsa had been told of the death of her parents, as well as the years after, locked away with no support as she was.

"Hey! Wait!" Kristoff called to them, running towards the front gates. The sisters paused and turned to face him, surprised.

He caught up to them just outside the doors of the castle. The wind had picked up and snow fell heavily on his shoulders. Elsa's gloved hands were clenched tightly in fists but her face was an expressionless mask.

"Your majesty," Kristoff managed to say at the last second, noting the guards nearby. "Can I speak to you for a moment? Alone?" He couldn't decide which sister looked more startled by his request.

Turning the corner, he and Elsa faced each other. "What is this about, Kristoff?" Elsa asked. She was so _tired_. She didn't think she could handle a serious discussion at the moment.

Kristoff thought for a second in the swirling snow, stunned by his own spontaneity. "I-I just wanted you to know that I'm here to support both of you- Anna _and_ you."

He continued despite the shocked look on the queen's face. "I know this day is hard for you. I can't imagine what it must've been like- to lose your parents and become Queen on the same day." He shivered, having not been prepared for the snow. Elsa's eyes darkened and she frowned, though whether it was from his shiver or his words he couldn't be sure. He had to force himself to spit out the rest of what he was trying to say, scared that he had upset her by broaching such a topic. _You're past the point of no return, out with it._

"So I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for Anna, and that I'm here for you as well." He looked down, embarrassed. His hair flopped into his eyes. "I know you probably wouldn't want to talk to me about any of it, but I'm here. Just – just if you ever needed it."

Elsa felt a warmth in her chest that she never expected to feel on this day of all days. The snow lightened to small, fluttering flakes. "Thank you," she said, embarrassed, a small blush blooming on her pale cheeks. "That means a lot." She considered. "More than you can imagine."

"You're welcome," Kristoff responded, a small smile playing on his lips. _Did he just melt the ice queen?_ "Take care of her out there, alright?" He nodded his head toward Anna.

"You're wondering if she'll be safe out there with me," Elsa observed dryly, gesturing to the dwindling snowflakes. She chuckled at Kristoff's guilty expression. "She is now."

She gave him a wry smile and headed back over to Anna, resuming their walk. Observing the two girls now in the distance, he noted Elsa's hand was now entwined with Anna's as they walked away.

* * *

After months of sending letters back and forth across the seas, after months of negotiations and tireless nights spent at a desk by candlelight instead of bed, new trade agreements have been formed with some neighboring countries. A banquet is being held in celebration of the good news (at Anna's behest, of course), and the castle is bustling with activity in preparation.

All of the councilmen and the diplomats involved have been invited, as have their families. The dining hall is set for all of the attendants, the silverware gleaming and a string quartet practicing before the event.

Anna cannot wait for the affair. She chose a new dress for the occasion, and, of course, there will be so much chocolate! But most of all, Anna cannot wait to meet the families and children of those that will be in attendance. These grand social occasions come so rarely and she _so_ loves socializing at events such as these.

Kristoff almost wishes he had told Anna that he'd be away on an ice-harvesting trip for the occasion. He can't imagine looking forward to dressing up in heavy, stiff fabrics and parading about like a peacock. He doesn't want to talk to these stuffy people or congratulate them on their hard work. He has _no idea_ how on earth Elsa manages working with these people. He doesn't want to meet their children and he doesn't see the need to come together at an event to celebrate. But yeah, at least there will be chocolate. And lots of other food. And drinks. Would ale be served at a banquet at the castle?

Finally, the event has arrived. The guests are already mingling – oohing and aahing over the hors d'oeuvres being passed around and exclaiming over gossip while children run across the gleaming hardwood floors and play.

Kristoff, Anna and Elsa are waiting just outside the main entrance to the banquet hall. Their names will be announced and they will enter the room.

Right before Kristoff and Anna are called in together, Kristoff becomes aware of the sounds of breathing behind him. The queen is taking rapid, erratic breaths. He turns around.

Elsa's gaze is fixed on a spot on the wall. Her chest heaves as she attempts to slow and control her breaths. Her hands are shaking, and she quickly tucks them into the folds of her skirts.

He wants to say something; to comfort her, to calm her down. He opens his mouth –

"Princess Anna of Arendelle, accompanied by Kristoff Bjorgman, Ice Master and Deliverer!" The Sergeant at Arms announces loftily to the room as the double doors swing open. Too late. Kristoff catches one last look at Elsa's gaze still locked on the wall, her nostrils flaring as she breathes.

As he walks with Anna on his arm across the grand hall, Kristoff can't help but think of Elsa, anxiously waiting to be announced from behind the heavy doors which just closed behind him. He knows that Elsa isn't comfortable in large crowds yet. He knows (from personal experience) that she oftentimes struggles to maintain a conversation. He has heard from Anna how the queen's thoughts often veer towards distorted notions of how others perceive her.

Kristoff and Anna reach the middle of the floor and turn to face the doors for the last guest to be announced. The final pronouncement is made. "Queen Elsa of Arendelle!"

Kristoff cringes. Elsa shouldn't walk out yet, not while she's still fighting off her panic. It wouldn't do for the people to see her like that.

And yet…

Kristoff is shocked when the Queen _glides_ in with a grace that Kristoff can't ever imagine having. Her back is straight, her shoulders proud and her neck held high. Her eyes are easy as her mouth is held in a pleasant, natural smile. She exudes confidence, elegance, and refinement.

She makes a quick yet sophisticated speech to thank the attendants for all of their hard work; expressing the pride she has in being part of such a hardworking, dedicated team. The picture of a queen through and through. Assured and poised at all times.

 _How did-? What happened to -? How did she-?_ Kristoff is stunned. How can Elsa put up this façade of controlled queen so smoothly, so _effortlessly_ and _convincingly?_

A sad voice whispers in his head. _Practice makes perfect._

Kristoff knows he is one of the very few who has seen Elsa behind the mask she so easily slips on.

She is a natural queen- her fear and anxiety are indistinguishable from her character throughout the evening. Charming, charismatic – a bit awkward at times, but that is overlooked due to the celebratory occasion and the fact that she is _queen_ – on the outside, Elsa appears to be the epitome of sophisticated grace.

When all the celebrants are seated for dinner, only Kristoff seems to notice that steam is rising from everyone's soup except the queen's.

* * *

The bees are buzzing and crickets chirping in the small clearing that Kristoff, Anna, and sometimes Elsa have taken to visiting.

It is a beautiful day, if a bit windy, which has caused the kite that they were flying to veer sharply into the clawing branches of a tree and get stuck.

"Don't worry, I got this!" Proclaims Anna, her mouth setting into a determined line as she hikes up her skirt and starts towards the offending tree.

"Anna, no!" Elsa starts to stand up to drag Anna back to the safe ground, but Kristoff grabs her arm, chuckling.

"She'll be _fine_ , Elsa." He grins as Anna finds a good foothold and starts scrabbling up the trunk of the tree. "She's strong."

"I know," Elsa responds. "You're right, she can handle almost anything." Her mouth turns down in a frown. "She handles everything that comes her way so bravely…" she adds, her eyes growing sad and dark. "I have to remind myself sometimes that she's not weak like I am."

Kristoff is startled by the confession. "Weak?" He asks. He pictures a young _princess_ Elsa, locked inside her bedroom, gloved and lonely as she watches the world pass her by outside. He can't imagine the sheer _strength_ it took to bear such a burden every single day for so many years. "But you…" he struggles to find the right words for Elsa's childhood struggles without offending the queen. "For so many years…"

Elsa shakes her head. "That's not bravery," she says. "I _endured_. That is all." Her fingers twitch. "If I were brave, I would have…"the words seem to leave her, then, but the ice that forms a dagger in her hand is explanation enough.

"You're not giving yourself enough credit," Kristoff says, not realizing he was holding his breath at the sight of the dagger until it dissipates in Elsa's hand. "Survival like that - when you've lost all hope and no one is coming to save you – "that takes true courage. Don't sell yourself short."

Elsa looks at him oddly, her head tilting to the side to look at him. "That's what Anna, said, too."

* * *

_How has time flown by so fast?_

A year has come and gone, all in the blink of an eye. A year since he found that crazy, _insane_ girl half-frozen in the woods. A year since he nearly died at the hands of a glorified deadly snowman. A year since he fell in love. A year since the love of his life died. And a year since his whole life changed.

They had all changed, the three of them. Kristoff found himself more open, more amicable. He'd make a passing comment to a stranger on the street or at a bar, and then wonder _where did_ that _come from?_

At the end of a hard day, he no longer just wanted to hide away and spend time on his own. It was Anna's warm, sun-kissed face that he hoped for; what he looked forward to and what he worked towards. He was…well, _happy._

Since the past year, Anna's confidence had spiked. She no longer felt so unwanted, so _useless._ She had a _purpose_ – what she had been searching for all along, apparently.

She strove to make the people of Arendelle happy. To make Kristoff, her love, happy. And to make her _sister_ happy. She felt pride in the work that she did to better the lives of her people. She loved seeing the warm smile on Kristoff's face, the crinkling of his eyes when he smiled at her, and how his rough hands felt oh-so _gentle_ on her skin.

And she loved giving her sister hugs. Yes, even that was part of her purpose. Because her sister was hug- deprived, and it was Anna's newest and perhaps most important responsibility- to hug her sister.

Elsa, in the past year, had grown as well. While at times she still struggled with things- controlling her powers in the face of strong emotion, tolerating touch from others, holding a sustained conversation – the queen had begun to grow into her own skin; becoming more comfortable with and accepting of herself.

She smiled more, laughed more. She felt lighter, as though a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Some days were hard, yes – but she found that most of the time she was able to direct her dark thoughts toward happier times and dreams of lighthearted moments in her future.

She grew accustomed to her work as the queen. She developed a routine and found herself growing confident in her skills and prideful of her work in betterment of the kingdom. She became a strong negotiator with a keen sense of justice. She gained respect from (most) of her staff, advisers, and colleagues.

She felt _whole._

The year had brought changes and happiness. But that day, marking the year itself exactly? Maybe not so much.

* * *

Kristoff rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Anna cried, tossing shoe after shoe over her shoulder out of her wardrobe. She turned to Kristoff and glared. "You don't understand, you're a _guy._ And you have, what? Two pairs of shoes?"

"Five, thank you."

"Well, then, _excuse_ me- " Anna rolled her eyes right back and turned back to toss more shoes around – "then you _must_ understand how important it is that you have shoes the _exact_ shade to match your dress – especially when anyone who's _anyone_ is going to be in attendance tonight!" Giving up, she stood back up, hands on her hips. "Tonight's a big night, and I gotta look the part!"

"Anna, you'll look just fine," Kristoff groaned, brushing his hands over his hair. "Why didn't you get new shoes made to match with the new dress?"

Anna blushed guiltily. "I thought I already had a pair that would work."

"Really? It's the first ball in a whole year, and a really important one, and you wagered your outfit on your _memory?"_

"Shut up. Do me a favor, would ya? Elsa's got the perfect pair, I know it. Tell her I need the silver ones she has with the little gems by the toes, she'll know which shoes I'm talking about."

Kristoff sighs but acquiesces, and heads down the long hallway towards the queen's quarters.

Tonight's a big night- the first ball in a year – the ball to commemorate the coronation of Queen Elsa.

He knows that, if it were up to Elsa, there would be no celebration. In fact, there might even be a banishment of ever bringing up the occasion- or maybe she'd just remove the whole day itself from the calendar so that there could never be an anniversary of such a dreadful day.

But alas, while Elsa yields total power over many things in the kingdom, the power to decide what occasions call for celebration is not hers alone. _And thank goodness,_ Kristoff thinks, _or else we'd probably never celebrate anything with more people than just the three of us._

Passing through the hall, Kristoff wonders how Elsa is faring. Anna had mentioned earlier that Elsa was very nervous- Anna herself had already helped to ward off a couple of panic attacks over the idea of the ball in the past week. "She's afraid everyone's only going to be reminded of what she did," Anna had said. "I keep telling her this is a _happy_ occasion- it was a year ago today that she learned how to control her powers and that we became a family again!"

As happy as that is, Kristoff knows that Elsa tends to dwell on the negatives and get lost in dark memories. He wonders if not having the right color shoes would be Anna's toughest challenge tonight, or if her sister would make it onto her list of things to be concerned about.

Giving a small but wary nod to the guards outside of Elsa's quarters, Kristoff gives a light knock. He's one of only a few people granted access without permission of the royal guard to enter, but he'd always prefer to have Elsa open the door for him so he doesn't feel like he's barging in on the queen's privacy.

Unfortunately, there's no response from behind the door, so he turns the knob and steps in. The area he enters into is a sitting room, though it's a bit stuffy and often unused. A smaller study than Elsa's office leads off of that, and behind _that_ is her bedroom.

"Elsa?" Kristoff calls, not wanting to spook her. Is she even here? There's no sign of the queen anywh-

He suddenly feels it, stepping through her office towards the bedroom, the door cracked open. The temperature is fluctuating rapidly, giving him the strange sensation of being in limbo between suffering heat stroke and freezing. He's never felt this before – it's clearly the struggle between _knowing_ how to keep the temperature normal versus actually _doing_ so.

"Elsa…" he can _smell_ the cold now; sense her power in the air. She hasn't totally lost control- yet.

Maybe now's not the best time to ask about the shoes.

He enters the room cautiously and on guard. He _hears_ her before he sees her.

" _Don'tfeel don't feel dontfeeldontfeeldontfeeldontfeel_ don't feel!"

The regal queen is muttering, huddled on the floor, swaths of fabric pooling around her ankles. Elsa is dressed in her gown for the evening, rich hues of sapphire blending seamlessly into cobalt and then indigo.

Her feet are bare- one is peeking out beneath the dress – and her hair is tied back in a striking updo, strands curling off the back and framing her face in the front.

Kristoff is struck by her beauty, bent on the floor in front of him - but while Anna's exquisiteness draws him in, warm and inviting and soft, her elder sister's is striking and somewhat cold.

"Elsa-" he reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder, then retracts it, feeling the cold shudder through him once more. Her breathing is erratic, shaky.

Kristoff knows what this is – Anna has told him about them, before. The attacks her sister gets sometimes, when she's stressed, or scared. Or for seemingly no reason or trigger at all. But he's never seen one before. He doesn't know what to do.

Is it safe?

Elsa doesn't look up when he says her name. He doesn't know if she even hears him, occupied as she seems to be. Her arms are wrapped around her torso in a strange version of a hug, her chest heaving as she struggles to draw in air – as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the room to fill her lungs. Her breaths are stuttered, high-pitched, the air passing through her slender neck in a struggle despite her repeating mantra. _Don'tfeeldon'tfeeldon'tfeeldon'tfeel._

"Elsa?" He asks again. "What's – what's wrong?"

Her eyes dart up to him quickly before falling back to the floor; a closed fist over her heart.

"I-" she chokes out, gasping, "-can't breathe."

The fact she was speaking makes Kristoff think otherwise, but he decides to roll with it.

"Ok, just – just try to slow it down a bit. Deep-" he mimes taking a deep breath – "deep breaths."

She shook her head with a whine. Images of the worst day of her life flash in her mind's eye. _What are you so_ afraid _of?_ The uniform gasp of the people when her powers revealed themselves. The mistrust and fear burning in their eyes. Striking Anna's heart after a powerful buildup. Arrows flying at her face. Hateful grimaces of Weselton's cronies. The dungeon. Handcuffs biting into the skin of her wrists. A frozen sister, never to jump or smile again.

She sputters, choking on the memories. She thinks she might be sick.

Kristoff is startled. He's seen Elsa nervous before, breathing funny, trembling. But he's never seen an attack such as this. Elsa seems to be melting right before his eyes, every breath a struggle and making noises like a wounded animal. _She's in pain._

He has no idea what to do to help her. _What the heck is going on? What the hell do I do?_ "Should – should I go get Anna?"

There's no answer at first. Kristoff makes to leave to get Anna and _quickly –_ when Elsa shakes her head again, her chin tucked against her chest as tightly as humanly possible.

"N-no," she breathes out. "She shouldn't worry any -" she draws in a gasping breath "-anymore."

The temperature is still fluctuating like crazy, snowflakes and ice falling and crawling and then disappearing like they were nothing but his own hallucinations.

"But you should?" He asks, crouching down to her level on the floor. "You think you should do all the worrying for the two of you?"

Elsa doesn't respond, her arms tightening around herself. _Control it. Don't feel!_

"Hey," Kristoff says, her words leading him to sudden understanding. "You're – you're trying to do too much at once here. You're worried about tonight, but focusing on controlling your powers is taking too much of your focus."

Elsa finally looks up so that her deep blue eyes meet his, widening in surprise. She can barely hear his words over the pounding of blood rushing in her ears but his revelation makes sense.

Kristoff continues. "Maybe just…let it go? Let the power out so you can focus on what's bothering you. We can work through it together."

He gently, carefully, places a hand on her tremulous shoulder but retracts it immediately, holding back a hiss. The icy colds _burns_ right through the fabric of the sleeve of her gown. He feels so useless, sitting there on the floor with her. She's the queen, and she so clearly, desperately needs help but all he can do is sit there and watch her torment.

"Ok," she breathes, her eyes trusting. She needs someone she can trust right now. "But…" she gives him a pointed look.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go…"Kristoff adds, glancing around the room. "If I close the door behind me, is that good?"

Elsa nods, her breathing beginning to even out. He can feel the room getting colder as she loosens her grip on the magic.

Once the door to the bedroom is closed behind him, there's a pause and then Kristoff knows when Elsa has let loose of the dam over her powers. Standing silently just outside of the door, he listens as the wind howls and the splintering of ice crackles. He imagines it beginning to crawl up the wall in tracts converging in the center from its creator. The glinting prisms spread outward in facets, dendrites branching tree-like as the ice climbs higher and higher, forming connections like vines in the jungle. Beautiful, as he always saw afterwards, yes, but eerie in its pristine ferocity.

It truly wasn't fair, he thought. These powers, were, in some ways, a curse. He only recently had begun to understand its implications in a way that others refused to or couldn't. They didn't know what troubles the whiteness blanketing her insides could cause during moments when emotions raged; where others could simply scream, fight, or simply let tears trail down in silence, the queen he loved like a sister was unable to let herself feel, let alone express, those intense emotions at times for fear of the consequences.

The sounds of her emotions turned to living physicalities seemed serene, however, in comparison to her heart-wrenching groans that could at times be heard in accompaniment with the winds and ice. It sounded as though they were torn from her body, wrenched out of her throat by sheer emotion. In them, he heard the frustration and the despair, the anger and the sorrow. Come a little while, they'd also trace the relief she felt in her release and a returning to normality.

Sometime later, those sounds came. The winds lessened until they were a light breeze, the only sound of ice that of breaking glass as she took small, careful steps to survey the damage and head to the door to call weakly: "K-Kristoff?"

Treading carefully, he steps back into the bedroom, broken ice tinkling under his feet. Ice coats the walls, drips down from icicles on the ceiling. It's freezing in here, but the air is calm, no longer buzzing around him with unruly magic anxious to be freed.

"Hey," he says to Elsa, who has crumpled to the floor once more, her tight bun now in disarray. "Feel better?"

She shrugs, still shaking, but is calmer now that something inside of her isn't fighting to get out. Kristoff can't help but remember the last time he saw the results of Elsa's magical outburst joined with a panic attack. _At Anna's expense._

He had always focused on Anna's health and her feelings after being struck by Elsa that time – how her hair turned white, how her limbs became stiff as the ice spread beneath her skin.

Now, he wondered, what had happened to _Elsa_ when they left after her attack in the ice palace?

Was she huddled on the floor as she was now, gasping for breath? And that time, she had been…all alone.

_Not anymore._

"Elsa," Kristoff begins. He places his palms on her back, starts rubbing in little circles as she takes deep breaths.

"Last year at this time, you were by yourself. You were facing all this on your own. But that's not you anymore. That's not _us._ There is _us_ now, Elsa. You, me, and Anna. We're all here to look out for each other, support each other." His hands aren't so cold now on her back.

"What happened last year…it happened. But it changed all of us for the better. You know how to control your powers- " Elsa made a noise of disagreement.

" _Yes,_ you do!" Kristoff interrupted. "Look! You just held that all in for so long 'til I _left the room._ " Elsa's shaking lessened, until the only movement in the room was the two of them breathing.

"This year, at this ball, we celebrate _you._ What you've done for the kingdom, yes, but what you've overcome, and what _we_ have become. You're not alone anymore, Elsa. You've got us." Kristoff gathers Elsa's hands in his. They're a bit chilly but he's able to warm them up quickly. Her smile, however, warms him to the core.

"Thank you," she whispers.

The ball is a success. Everyone buzzes about how beautiful the queen and princess are, how gracious. They eagerly look forward to the prosperous years Queen Elsa will bring them towards.

No one even notices that Princess Anna's shoes don't quite match her dress.

* * *

As the days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months, things feel like they are finally settling down into something somewhat resembling a normalcy – a normality as much as a queen, princess, and reindeer-loving ice harvester can have.

Elsa finds she at last feels at peace with herself – usually, anyway. She feels like she has a _home_. Because what is a home without the people you love in it?

And those two people that make up her home are growing closer by the day.

She sees how Kristoff rushes home after his harvesting to see the woman he loves again. How he brings Anna small, beautiful things- a leaf the exact fiery shade of her hair, a delicate bouquet of flowers he picked by the meadow, a chocolate roll from her favorite bakery in town.

She notices how Anna's mood falls when Kristoff isn't around, and how she perks back up when he's scheduled to return home. Anna peppers their conversations with anecdotes about her time spent with Kristoff – and Elsa can't help but notice the flush in her cheeks and her not-so-subtle glances at Kristoff's strong, bronzed arms and legs and, dare she say it – the wistful yet fleeting looks over, well, the areas Elsa doesn't really want to think about.

She has no choice sometimes but to be witness to quick pecks on cheeks hello and goodbye, as well as longer, more passionate kisses before she can turn away her gaze. She sees their hands clasped together, playful touches and warm hugs.

Elsa knows she is a valued friend and a cherished sister. But does that matter? Is it enough?

_What is my place in your life? Will I be a part of your world?_

For so long she had been hidden away. So, so many years. Has she actually managed to come out of hiding? Or is she still struggling to be seen?

* * *

After a lifetime of self-doubt, Elsa can finally begin to see where her place is in life.

With her kingdom. With her sister.

And with her brother.

Kristoff, she eventually comes to realize, is as much of a brother to her as Anna is a sister.

Anna has always, _always_ been there to support her. Words of support. Wiping away tears. A strong embrace when she's weak. A warm hug, a clasped hand, and a loving gaze.

Kristoff, over the past year, has grown to do the same. Soft, kind eyes. A rough yet gentle hand. An understanding gaze and a keen perceptiveness. He looks out for her like family. He would defend her with his life, she knows- not as a duty to his Queen, but out of love for a sister. He's a listening ear when she's stressed or worried, a friend when she's feeling lonely, and a guide when she needs direction.

He's a friend.

Her very first _friend._

She knew the question was coming. She knows how Kristoff feels about her sister, knows what his intentions are. After all, how many times can she remind them that _"you two cannot be intimate with each other until you are married?"_ with a light-hearted tone but steel in her eyes?

If that didn't convince him to propose, she didn't know what would.

But more than…being intimate, Elsa knows that Kristoff wants to live the rest of his days with her sister. He wants to come home to her smile, to feel her warm embrace, to be the oh-so-lucky person to get to experience the amazing, wonderful _loveliness_ that comes with being with Anna.

Elsa understands that feeling – because it is what she feels and yearns for every single day.

So it is with very little surprise that Elsa finds herself sitting across from Kristoff as he holds out a ring. A ring that he intends to give to Anna, if the Queen will allow it.

And she does.

And that is it, she thinks- my sister is getting married. _And I will no longer be important. No longer necessary._ It is with a heavy heart that she gives her blessing to Kristoff. She knows he will make her sister happy. She knows he will take care of her for life.

But then, suddenly, a second box is pulled out from Kristoff's pocket, and is handed to Elsa.

"What is this?" She asks, curious. Is there another tradition of engagements which she does not know about? Perhaps a troll tradition?

"Open it and see," Kristoff says with a knowing grin.

Carefully prying off the lid, Elsa stares.

Inside is a delicate silver chain with a pendant. She gingerly pulls it out, the chain looped over her fingers as her eyes catch the light of a tiny, crystalline teardrop hanging from the middle. It is so clear and sparkling it near looks like ice, and there is a small snowflake etched into the gem in the center.

"It's stunning," Elsa tells Kristoff, in wonder of the beauty in her hands, yet confused. "But why give Anna a ring _and_ a necklace?"

"No - it's for you." Kristoff blushes. "I'm here to ask for Anna's hand in marriage," he starts. "But also I want to ask you – will you be my sister?"

Elsa startles, eyes wide. The hand holding the pendant brings it up to rest on her chest, the teardrop falling nicely into the hollow between her collarbones. It's not ice, yet it somehow feels just as much a part of her as ice is. She places her other hand over the necklace, and over her heart.

He wants her to be a part of his life.

And suddenly, she doesn't feel quite so much like a monster anymore.


End file.
